


Assassin

by Warhunterkiller



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warhunterkiller/pseuds/Warhunterkiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First attempt writing a story about an Eversor Assassin. Mediocre at best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassin

The red lumin-globe turns green. There's a hiss in the center of the chamber. A pale light flares up, showing the deadly cargo held in the chamber. Frost covers the façade of the pod with a light haze of steam coming off. Tubes and wires protrude from the floor into the pod. The pod moves into position on the launcher; wires and conduits retract and sink back into the darkness. The lights begin to flash and there's an explosion. The pod blasts out into the darkness of space and destined to the unknown. 

Neuro-links feed the mission details to the suspended assassin. Topographical maps, last known positions, identity photos, and other data stream through his unconscious mind. The details implanting themselves into his subconscious, like the columns of a building: unmovable and strong. The thrusters of the pod align themselves to the planet below and anchor it in geosynchronous orbit. Links from the ship begin to reanimate the Assassin; combat toxins begin to ooze into his blood and muscles while solutions bring him to full combat mode. 

It's dark. Nightfall has engulfed Sigma Primis. Stars twinkle above and the trees sway in the light breeze. A moon castes shadows that dance and sway in the life ridden forest. High above there's a streak of fire plummeting to terra firma. Smoke billows behind the pod and with a roar it impacts the soft mud of the bog. Stagnant liquids and mud vaporize and fall back to the ground and trees catch alight from the intense heat. Moments pass before any sign of showed. Explosive bolts ruptured and the door flew off violently into a tree. Two hands reach out and grasp the edges of the opening and this monster lunges out. His battle-helm was of a skull. Eyes burning red like the coals of a raging fire glowed in the darkness. 

He makes his way through the bog. Splashing and slushing his way towards his objective. An Executioner Pistol was held firmly in his right hand while a Neuro Gauntlet was fastened to his left hand and placed on his side in a sheath was a Power Sword. His red eyes scan the area. Using the infrared optics in his helm, he haunted the creatures that roamed the lands. He notices a hand print on a tree; large and inhuman: ork. He continues on and notices more signs of the vile creatures. In the distance there's splashing and bellowing of incoherent nonsense, prey. He trudged through the mire at full speed. The combat cocktails running through his blood are coming together. Muscles tense; mind clears; sound, taste, sight, and touch become more honed and sharpened. Prey. 

Out the darkness death appeared. His Executioner Pistol firing well aimed shots that turned flesh into nothing. Ork after ork fell. He lunged and decapitated an ork with his Power Sword while his Neuro Gauntlet impaled itself in the head of an ork. The toxins quickly going to work with devastating effects, the creatures' central nervous system was annihilated. The beast yelled in agonizing pain; his oversized hands firmly around his imbecilic skull. He dropped motionless. The Assassin impaled another and blew its head off with a pointblank shot from his Pistol. Blood and visceral goo covered the Assassin. He relished it. Eight greenskins felt the gruesome power of the Emperor. 

He faced more ork patrols. The Assassin tears apart all those that stood between him and his objective. Limbs and torn torsos littered the ground. Blood forming an ocean that stank of iron and vile xeno excrement hung in the air. He was three kilometers away from his objective. The surrounding area was rife with the greenskins. Their symbols and stupidity was present. Fires glowed in the distance with the sounds of gunfire and brawling. The warboss was entrenched in his fortress of solitude and mechanical desecration. More heat signatures appeared in his occulobe. Prey. He unsheathed his Power Sword and charged. Vox-amplifiers bellowed screams of pain and slaughter. Hundreds of orks rushed out to meet this enemy. The Assassin fired and stabbed simultaneously. Arterial blood geysered from decapitated heads and torn-out throats, steam oozed out of the lacerations, like the soul itself escaping. Viscera spilled out in piles while others fell from toxins entering their alien physiology. Hundreds fell from the Assassins Pistol and Sword. Then the warboss appeared. A giant; a monster; a filthy xeno that deserves only death by one of the Emperor's finest.

Like a ship upon the sea, the menial orks parted in his wake. The clank of metal and hiss of poorly kept hydraulics appeared in front of the Assassin. Without hesitation the assassin jumped onto the beast. The combat drugs made him superhuman and made him able to do the incredible amounts of movement that a mere mortal can't do. The warboss lunged back and forth and swung his giant power Klaw to get rid of this creature on his back. The assassin held tightly and fired numerous bolts into the hinges and hydraulics that kept this makeshift armor together and moving. The armor shifted and gave way. In a thunderous boom the scrap metal fell. Enraged the warboss lunged back and onto his back. The Assassin fell and rolled and darted with Power Sword aimed at the greenskins face. But the warboss was quicker and swung his monstrous arm, knocking the Assassin back. Yet again the Assassin darted his way towards the beast; lunging and rolling at every attempt to stop him. With the full force of the combat drugs and his suit the assassin punched and impaled his fist into the beast. It bellowed in pain but it still fought. The Assassin ducked as the warboss swung a piece of metal from his ruined armor. Then another and another flew towards the Assassin. Swaths of menial orks fell from the blows from flying metal. 

The battle seemed to rage for hours, but it has only been minutes. The warboss and Assassin fought like daemons. Blood oozed from torn wounds; hearts were racing; lungs were working overtime to fill the body with precious air. The Assassin was finished. He grabbed the Power Sword and threw it. It impaled itself in the warbosses chest. Then the Assassin ran at full speed and jumped onto the impaled Sword and using it as leverage. He then pulled it out and sliced the warbosses neck. Arterial blood gushed and with a sudden motion he released a melta bomb and shoved it into the open neck wound. The Assassin jumped off as the beast detonated in a shower of meat. The other orks looked on in confusion and ran off. But not before being cut down by needler and bolt rounds.


End file.
